Chapter 7
L et it never be said that alcohol isn’t the universal cure for everything. At least that’s what I’m counting on.
“How many of those are you going to have tonight?”
“As many as it takes,” I tell Kaplan, who has been watching me like he’s not sure what the hell to do with me.
“Have you tried, I don’t know, growing a pair and talking to her?”
“Yes, asshole.”
Twice. I tried twice. Yesterday and again today.
Yesterday for over an hour, we talked. I pled my case.
Tried to rationalize with her. And she didn’t listen.
She. Did. Not. Listen. She was all, ‘I’m coming with you to Minnesota, I don’t care what you say, and who needs the cello anyway.
’ But I could see the fucking pain in her eyes.
I could feel it pouring off her. She loves me, but she doesn’t want this.
I know she doesn’t. She just doesn’t know what else to do.
So I’m solving that problem for her.
I tip the glass of brown liquid up to my mouth and swallow it all down. Then I grab the bottle the bartender graciously left for me when I tossed him two hundred dollars and pour myself another shot of Jameson.
“Do me a favor, Kap?”
“Sure, brother.”
“Never fall in love. Especially with the right woman.”
“No plans to.”
I nod, staring down at the bar top and realizing I spilled about a shot’s worth onto the wood too. Is it gross if I lick it up?
“Fuck yes, it is.”
Shit. I’m musing out loud.
“Remind me why you’re doing this?”
“Because my little bird needs to fly away. And I love her enough to do that for her. Even when she can’t do it for herself.”
I feel his hand squeeze my shoulder. “If you love something…”
“Fight like hell one day when they’re ready to come back to you. I got it.”
“Shit, Luca. I’ve never seen you like this.”
I take my shot, not feeling or tasting anything at this point. “So I keep hearing. Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”
“Do you want me to call Landon?”
“No. I haven’t let him sleep for two nights. Plus, even though he’s trying, I think it hurts him to talk about this.”
“Between what happened to Rina, Oliver, Landon, and now your sorry ass, love can go fuck itself.”
“Gently with a chainsaw. I’ll drink to that.”
“Me too.” Kaplan holds out his glass and I pour him a shot and myself another and the two of us drink. Until the door to the bar opens and in walks the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen. Wearing a red blouse and matching heels and tight as sin black jeans.
“I can’t do it.”
“You can. And she’s going to be seriously hurt for a while. But don’t worry, one day she’ll get over it.”
“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Thanks for the pep talk.”
“It’s what big brothers are for.”
I flip him off just as Raven reaches us, staring at the bottle, the mess of Jameson lining the counter, my empty glass, and finally me.
“Rough night?”
It’s about to be.
“Do you want water or something? A soda maybe? How about a Shirley Temple? I hear it’s what all the cool kids drink.”
She huffs out a breath and Kaplan wordlessly gets up and leaves me to it.
“What are you doing?”
“Breaking up with you. I thought that would be obvious.”
Her eyes flash, but she just shakes her head. “Nice try.”
I stand slowly, partially because I’m drunk as fuck, but mostly because I’m making a show out of it. My eyes drag down to the end of the bar and my stomach churns at what’s waiting for me there. It’s now or never.
“Look, Raven…” I meet her eyes. “Honestly, I should have done this earlier and I’m sorry I didn’t. I never wanted to hurt you. But, well, it’s time we move on. Go our separate ways.”
A flush races up her face and her lips part. “Luca, what are you doing?”
“I’m ending this.”
She falls onto the empty barstool beside her.
“You’re not serious.”
“I am actually. I tried to have this talk with you yesterday and again this morning, but you weren’t listening. I have to think of myself and what’s best, and that means going back to Minnesota. Alone.”
Her eyes cling to mine, desperate as they try to read me.
Only I’m drunk, have broken up with more women than I can count on two hands and two feet, and have prepared this speech for the last three hours.
She won’t find anything I don’t want her to see.
And right now, I want her to see indifference.
“But… these two months… the other night… the things we said.”
“It’s been fun. You were a great lay. But I’m over it. Not once did I ever invite you to come back to Minnesota with me.”
“Actually, you did. You talked about forever. You talked about not letting me go. You talked about doing whatever we had to do!”
“I was also depressed and in a bad place. That’s all behind me now. Can’t we just say we had a good time together and have a clean break? Make this easy instead of fucking drama?”
She shakes her head. “You’re lying. I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not.” Hard motherfucking swallow. “Little Bird, it’s over between us. Go fly away. London is where you’re meant to be, and Minnesota is where I’m meant to be.”
She stands up, fury shooting through her like a brush fire. “You’re such a coward. Why can’t you just tell me the truth?”
“Fine. You want the truth?” I lean forward, getting right up in her face. “I don’t want you to come to Minnesota with me. I told you that yesterday and today, but you weren’t listening.”
“No,” she clips out. “You told me you didn’t want me to give up on London for Minnesota. You didn’t want me to give up on my dream for you.”
And stubborn woman that you are, you held firm.
I shrug. “That too. But it doesn’t change the reality and the reality is that it’s over.”
“Why are you doing this?” She smacks a frustrated hand on the bar.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. You told me you love me, Luca.
You told me you want forever. I chose you over the only other thing I love as much.
” Her chin drops and she shakes her head.
“I can’t believe I sound like one of those girls.
” Her eyes meet mine again. “Is that what I am? Is that what you’ve turned me into?
Why did you tell me those things if you didn’t mean them? ”
Because I did mean them. Every fucking word, I meant. I just had no clue we’d end like this.
“What did you expect?” I shrug. “You know me. I’m Luca Fritz. Billionaire playboy. In love with a new woman every week. You said so yourself that first night.”
She steels her spine, tapping her nails on the bar. “I know what you’re trying to do and I’m not going to let you.”
Dammit, Raven. Walk away. Give it up.
I pour myself yet another shot and wolf it down. Then I give the signal. The nail in the coffin. The kill switch.
“You don’t have a choice.” I clutch the end of the bar, so she doesn’t see my hands shake. I’m two seconds from throwing up as I force out, “I don’t love you. I don’t want you. Get over it and move on. I have.”
That’s when a pretty blonde wearing a nothing of a black dress comes up to me, wrapping her arm around my waist, her other hand on my chest as she stares up into my eyes. “Hey, baby,” she coos at me. “Sorry I’m late, but I’m ready to go now if you are.”
“Luca.” It’s a shattered whisper, tears now tumbling from Raven’s eyes, rolling down her cheeks one after the other in an endless stream.
I’ll never get her back after this. Why couldn’t she just listen? Why couldn’t she just go to London instead? Why did she have to fight so damn hard for me when all I’m trying to do is save her?
You’ll be so unhappy with me, Raven. You’ll grow to hate me. Your fucking soul will die without your music and if you don’t do this… if you don’t follow your dream…
I meet her eyes, everything inside of me dying. Falling apart. “I’m sorry, Raven. It’s just how it is. How it has to be. I didn’t want it to end like this, but you just wouldn’t listen.” You love me more than I deserve . “Go to London. Travel the world. Play your music. And forget about me.”
With one final look at her, I force myself to meet Joselyn’s eyes. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“Hey, Luca?” A sharp crack hits my face in the form of Raven’s slap. “You don’t have to worry about me forgetting about you or following you anywhere. After tonight, you’ll never see me again. It’ll be like I never existed to you at all.”
And then she’s gone. Storming out of the bar and out into the street. Instinct takes over and I go to follow her, practically shoving poor Joselyn—a local waitress and casual fling of Kaplan’s—who is only trying to help, to the ground.
Someone catches my arm and I spin around, ready to kill whoever is trying to stop me, only to meet Kaplan’s hard green eyes. “Let. Her. Go.”
That’s when the dry heaves start and before I know what’s happening, Kaplan has me outside the back of the bar, up against the wall so I can splatter paint it with Jameson and bile.
Once everything inside me has been expelled, my head meets the rough wood siding, and I do my best to remember how to breathe.
Closing my eyes, all I can see is her. The hurt I inflicted all over her face. The pain. The goddamn heartbreak that absolutely matches my own.
“I didn’t know what else to do. How else to make her go.”
“I know.”
“How am I ever going to get her back? Did you see the hurt in her eyes? The vitriol? How am I ever going to get her back?”
“I don’t know, brother,” Kaplan says. “I don’t know. You’ll just have to have faith that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
“And when that gets me nowhere?”
“Then you summon the devil and learn how to fight dirty because it’s all you’ll have left.”